You Need Not Worry

“You need not worry.” A flickering light, my eyes dilate. “I feed them well ahead of the arrival of any of my guests.” Flesh ripping, gargling blood. He takes hold of my shoulder and shakes me, “Are you there?” Jesus, where did I slip off to. I focus on a fleshy bit of meat Brandon’s pulled from a stained bucket as he tosses it between the bars to be greeted by shrill screams and more coarse shredding. “They would be far worse had I left them alone for a few days,” a blast of smiling white teeth greets me as he notices my return to consciousness, “they’re barely hungry now.” Not to come across as impolite to my host, I nod my head in a forced agreement. Brandon’s smile grows stale with my lack of enthusiasm and in a annoyed whisper says, “you need not worry,” then walks away.